


in control

by FabulousPotatoSister



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: (this is really not that good), Blood, Gen, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, Mind Control, Minor Violence, Non-Graphic Violence, Not Beta Read, Not Shippy, Reader-Insert, gender neutral reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 06:28:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22559443
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FabulousPotatoSister/pseuds/FabulousPotatoSister
Summary: The Doctor investigates a mysterious energy source, and ends up at your flat.
Comments: 1
Kudos: 37





	in control

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this fic to pretty much fill one of my favorite old Doctor Who imagines from way back in the day. As I post this, I'm in a bit of a busy spot, so this fic might not be that good, but I still hope you enjoy.
> 
> Imagine credit: https://thefandomimagine.tumblr.com/post/142374551749/submitted-by-anonymous
> 
> (Yeah, I know the original imagine is for 11 but I'm 13 trash and thought this would be awesome for her.)

The Doctor would be lying if she said she didn’t feel bad about ransacking strangers’ homes. 

But here she was, with the rest of the fam, stepping into a small flat in Sheffield, having been distracted from a lovely breakfast that Graham set up after a long time out in the TARDIS. He’d been complaining about not having any real food lately, and he had made up his mind to take everyone out to eat once they arrived back on Earth. But apparently, the universe had other plans. The Doctor had picked up unusually high levels of energy from Sheffield. The TARDIS couldn’t pick up exactly what it was - the signals were too scrambled to decode without a little more time - and, the Doctor being  _ herself,  _ decided to investigate. Graham had insisted on staying behind.

It was quite a lovely flat, really. It was small enough to feel cozy but large enough to spread out in, only furthering the Doctor’s wish to get herself a flat of her own someday. Large windows were covered up by gauzy curtains and various decorations littered every surface.

As the Doctor picked up a sofa pillow and looked under it,  _ yes _ she did feel guilty.

“We’re very, very sorry. Guys, I’m going to need you to try and find anything remotely strange in this flat,” the Doctor said, raising her hands. Ryan and Yaz nodded and separated, disappearing inside different rooms. “Do you mind if we take a look around?"

The flat’s occupant -  _ you  _ \- looked properly offended. You crossed your arms over your chest - you were still dressed in comfy clothes, the Doctor noticed. Not suspicious at all. But the Doctor still kept her eyes on you, all cozy clothes and glares, and bare feet, holding a steaming mug of coffee in your hands. Just a normal, slightly annoyed human.

“I won’t mind when you tell me what’s going on,” you grumbled. 

“Just a routine inspection.” The Doctor lifted her sonic, sweeping it in an arc across the room. She lifted the sonic to her eyes to analyze the readings. They still came out inconclusive. “My ship picked up a large burst of energy right here at your flat, and I’m trying to find out what it is.”

“I’m sorry -  _ energy _ ?” You blinked. “And  _ your  _ ship? I’m sorry, what are you, some kind of alien?”

The Doctor ignored you. “Every reading I’m getting is still too inconclusive, I’m trying to find anything that might help me narrow it down.” She sweeped the sonic screwdriver around the room again, this time pointing it at various electronics. None of them reacted. Another look at the readings still gave the Doctor nothing. Nothing but a hint of something familiar… the Doctor set off towards another part of your flat - a large mirror that had undoubtedly been installed long before you moved in. The reflective surface chipping away was a dead giveaway. That, and the small post it note that read, in messy handwriting, “I need to replace this old thing”.

You set the mug down on a small end table. It was still pleasantly steaming, the Doctor noted. If she wasn't turning your house on its head then she would have asked for a cup. 

“And when you’ve found whatever you’re looking for, are you going to leave?” you asked, leaning over as she leant over to look at the mirror. “Because I’d really just like to enjoy my coffee in  _ peace _ , thank you very much.”

The Doctor looked up at you. You were looking down at her, your mouth drawn into a scowl. “Oi, no need to be rude,” she offered. “I know we’ve practically broken in, but I promise we’ll stop bothering you if you’re not the source of the energy.”

"And if I am?" you countered.

The Doctor frowned. "Then I'll have more questions to ask you. Here's one: have you seen anything strange around here lately? Something that seems impossible?"

"What, aside from you?" You shifted on your feet. "No, I don't think so."

"I've been called impossible quite a few times in my life. Bit of an area of expertise." The Doctor paused her examination of your furniture to look up at you again. You narrowed your eyes at her. "If I find out you're lying…"

You made a noncommittal noise, arms still crossed over your chest. The Doctor returned to scanning the mirror. As she did that, she noticed your form in the mirror - you had your arms wound around your chest much too tightly, and your fingers were digging into the soft-looking sweater you were wearing. You were  _ nervous _ , far too nervous for a normal human. The Doctor expected confusion, and annoyance - which she’d clearly gotten - but not fear. 

You were  _ scared _ . 

Before she could say anything, Ryan came bursting out of the door he’d come into, holding a circular object tightly in his hand. Yaz came bounding after him, breathing heavily.

“We looked everywhere, and we found this,” Ryan said, huffing. He ran up to the Doctor and presented the circular object, which lay glowing in his palms. It was dark and looked like it was made out of a rubbery substance, with a glowing blue center that pulsed like a heartbeat. 

“It was hidden in a drawer,” Yaz added, “tucked all the way under other clothes.”

The Doctor stilled. That thing in Ryan’s hands - it  _ looked _ familiar because it  _ was _ .

“That, is a Dalek eye. Disconnected from a Dalek.” She turned, very quickly towards you, anger building in her hearts. “That was the source of the energy! How do  _ you _ have a Dalek eye? That’s not the right question. More importantly,  _ why _ do you have one?”

You were very quiet now, your previous nervous fidgeting almost having disappeared completely. The Doctor lifted her sonic once more and sweeped it over your body. Swallowing hard, she looked at the results -

“What did you say your name was, again?” You smirked, standing up a little straighter.

The Doctor paused. She gestured towards the others to get behind her - “The Doctor,” she finally said, stepping backwards slightly. “I’m the Doctor.”

“ **You are the Doctor** ,” you sneered. The Doctor heard Yaz gasp when your voice took on a robotic tone, the familiar sound of a Dalek’s voice. “ **You are an enemy of the Daleks** !”

Suddenly, you lunged at the Doctor - knocking her into the mirror behind her. The mirror bent and shivered under her weight, threatening to crack. You barely strained against her body, digging your elbow into her stomach. 

She was practically pliant against your hands; you were much too strong for a human. What  _ were  _ you? Were you a Dalek puppet? Or were you something else entirely? What had the Daleks done to you? Were you even human at all? She had to find out - 

" _ Doctor! _ " Yaz screamed. You let out a hacking laugh, your lips curling to reveal teeth. 

The Doctor struggled against your grip. She planted her hands on your elbow, the one still digging into her stomach, and dug her fingers in. "You don't have to do this - what are your orders?"

" **To exterminate the Doctor** ."

"Right." The Doctor wiggled slightly. "But _ no gun _ . Daleks never let one of them leave without a weapon. But you don't have a weapon! You must have a gun with you, or you wouldn't be tackling me. Or…" the Doctor added, breathing heavily, " _ you don't want to use it. _ That isn’t very Dalek of you."

Your eye twitched. You reached up, curling your fingers around the Doctor's neck, but not squeezing. The Doctor grimaced - throats and choking were very sore subjects for her (seriously, was there something about her  _ neck _ that people really seemed to like?) - nodding furiously at a terrified-looking Yaz and a shell-shocked Ryan.  _ Now! _

Before you could squeeze your hand around the Doctor's throat, Yaz jumped forward - she was a police officer first and foremost, after all - and took hold of one of your arms. You whipped your head around and  _ snarled  _ at Yaz, a raw and animalistic sound. 

Yaz dug her fingers into the thick material of your sweater. “Come on!” she yelled at Ryan. The young man leapt towards her and proceeded to grasp your other arm, yanking it away from the Doctor. 

You thrashed in Yaz and Ryan’s grasp. You were practically frothing at the mouth with rage, eyes wide and focused only on the Doctor, who was now leaning over, her hands on her knees. She fixed her gaze on you as well, studying the way you looked at her like she was deserving of a special place of torment. The Daleks thrived on hate, and to make you a vessel of their hate for her was not something you deserved. 

Looking around at your flat, you must have been just a normal person - with an absolutely normal life. 

You must have been  _ terrified _ .

“Yaz, Ryan, don’t let go,” the Doctor said lowly, taking one cautious step towards your restrained form. She spoke to you - not the  _ you _ that was probably being controlled by the Daleks, but the  _ you  _ underneath all of that misplaced anger. “I know you’re in there, somewhere, and I need you to keep fighting whatever is controlling you. I know you’re scared, and I’m so sorry that they’ve done this to you, but you can break out, break  _ free _ .”

“ **Daleks do not feel fear** ,” you spat.

“Yes, but you’re not a Dalek, aren’t you?” the Doctor countered. You could only snarl in response, twisting your arms. Yaz groaned, trying to keep you under her grasp. “I can help you.”

For a moment, the anger bled from your features. You sagged under Yaz and Ryan’s grasp, looking up at the Doctor with wide, damp eyes. When you spoke, you forced the words out of your mouth - but the strange filter that made you sound like a Dalek had disappeared. “You can’t help me. It’s - it’s impossible.”

“Like I said, bit of an expert on that,” the Doctor said. “Let us try.”

Your breathing grew heavy as you stared at the Doctor, boring holes into her. You were  _ fighting _ . She could see it in the way you clenched and unclenched your fists, and in the way your lips moved as if murmuring silent prayers for freedom.

Screwing your eyes shut, you gave a hard shove against Yaz. “ **No. I have a mission!** ”

With a garbled, distorted yell, you wrenched free of your restraints and slammed yourself into your mirror. The old thing shattered as soon as you hit it, splintering into millions of pieces of glass. The shards sliced into your exposed skin, and soon you were bleeding. You picked up a larger shard of glass, wrapping your fingers around the sharp piece and letting blood drip off your makeshift weapon.

You stood shakily, and pointed the piece of glass at the Doctor. “ **Exterminate.** ”

But then - you shuddered. The shard of glass slipped from your hands and fell onto the floor.

“ **No,** no,” you whimpered. You brought your shaking hands up to your head and clenched your hair, knuckles turning white at how much you were squeezing your hands. Curling into yourself, you gnashed your teeth and shuddered once again. “ **I will** \- I  _ won’t _ , you can’t  _ make me _ -”

“What’s happening?” Ryan breathed.

“They’re fighting against their programming,” the Doctor said, “and being punished for it.”

“We have to help them!” Yaz cried. She moved to rush to your side, but you made a scramble for the piece of glass that was still near you. With trembling fingers, you picked the glass up again. But you weren’t pointing it at the Doctor - you kept the pointed edge firmly towards yourself. 

The Doctor looked at you pleadingly - your pale, tear-stained face looked back at her. Your chest heaved with heavy breaths, your eyes unfocused from the pain of whatever sigal the Daleks had sent to scramble your systems. 

With shaking lips, you managed one word: “ _ Run _ .”

The Doctor could only stare as a scream ripped from your throat.

You dropped to your knees, your body shaking and shivering, gasping for air. You fell sideways, onto the floor, and your body convulsed as you gasped and whimpered in pain. It was hard to watch - the Doctor shut her eyes at one point, and she briefly noticed Ryan turning away.

Eventually, your breathing slowed. You fell limp amongst shards of broken glass and spots of your blood. 

The Doctor rushed forward, dropping to her knees and pressing her fingers to the side of your neck - your pulse fluttered weakly under your skin, which was clammy and far too cold for her liking. She looked up at Ryan and Yaz, and nodded. “Can you help me take them back to the TARDIS?”

“...They tried to kill you,” Ryan blurted, earning him a sour look from Yaz.

The Doctor shook her head.  She wasn’t going to run this time. 

“I said I was going to help them. I won’t break that promise.”


End file.
